


Those Left Behind

by Caiti (Caitriona_3)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, writerverse challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 21:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3585228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/pseuds/Caiti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo ponders as Frodo leaves on the quest. An old friend reminds him that even joy can be a weapon against the enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> Done for a challenge at LJ's Writerverse - Write a story/scene of exactly 581 words.

_“It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”_

Bilbo pondered those words as he watched his nephew leave Rivendell in what must be the oddest company…Fellowship…since he passed this way all those ages ago with thirteen Dwarves and one Wizard. And yet…and yet…how much more dangerous this quest of Frodo’s?

“Fretting over that lad of yours?”

The gruff voice drew his attention and he summoned up a smile, strained as it was, for Glóin. “Frodo’s not the wanderer I was,” he explained. “None of them are.”

“They seemed good lads to me,” his friend replied. “Cheerful, loyal companions are always good for a journey.” Glóin’s eyes brightened with humor. “And I’m certain that stout fellow remembered the handkerchiefs.” 

“Will you lot never let that go?” Bilbo groaned, a hint of his younger self shining through as he glared at his erstwhile companion. 

“Afraid not,” the Dwarf chuckled, his graying beard shaking with his amusement. “Bofur even wrote a ditty about it.” His laughter deepened as the Hobbit buried his face in his hands. “It’s a popular tune down in the tavern when folks are retelling old stories.”

“Hmph!” Bilbo sighed in exasperation. “You tell that rapscallion that I shall take the flat of a sword to him when I see him next. Might teach him some manners.” 

Now Glóin collapsed onto one of the stone benches littering the courtyard, his legs unable to hold him in the excess of humor running through him and emerging in breathless chortles. The Elves stared at him, though Bilbo thought he could see hints of gratitude in some of their eyes, particularly those from Mirkwood. They too had just watched someone dear to them leave on the quest. 

Bilbo nodded to himself – keeping their joy, their hope and humor, would be another weapon in the fight to come – proof that the free peoples of Middle Earth intended to endure. So he put on his most Hobbit-like expression and stared at the still-chuckling Dwarf. “Are you about finished, you…you…you nutty Dwarf?”

Glóin drew in a breath as he appeared to force down his laughter and rose to face his friend. One large hand, more wrinkled but still strong, came to rest on Bilbo’s shoulder. “Come, my burglar friend,” he announced. “Let us go drink a toast in honor of our lads, shall we?” His gaze moved to look at the Elves around them and focused on the ones from Mirkwood. “Ah, you lot might as well come along,” he allowed. “No reason to keep such long faces – my boy Gimli’s worth dozens of orcs and that princeling of Thranduil’s…well, he’s not too bad in a fight.”

Bilbo choked back a laugh, keeping a straight face as the Mirkwood Elves glared while those of Rivendell turned away, shaking their heads. He nodded at his friend, but couldn’t resist taking one last look over his shoulder towards the path his nephew had taken. A whispered prayer and a fierce hope – bring them home – welled up inside him before he turned to follow Glóin towards the Hall of Fire.

His old warning echoed through his mind once more as he stepped out of the sunlight.

_“It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”_


End file.
